


days like this

by bastigod



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Roommates, SakuAtsu Week, can i offer u some soft sakuatsu in these trying times, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastigod/pseuds/bastigod
Summary: “I guess I just get like this sometimes. For no reason.”Happy SakuAtsu Week!Prompt: Hurt/Comfort
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 43
Kudos: 1382
Collections: Haikyuu, SakuAtsu Week 2020





	days like this

“Miya.”

Silence.

“The meeting’s in 15.”

Sakusa rapped a short melody with his knuckles just below the piece of paper taped on his roommate’s door. It was a crude drawing of a black-shirted stick figure with hair scribbled in yellow crayon. Above Crayon-Tsumu’s head was a half-legible ‘みや’ flanked by about a thousand exclamation points.

He wondered, only for a split-second, if perhaps Atsumu had left already. But if Sakusa knew anything about Atsumu, it was that he was painfully predictable and rarely left for team events alone. There had been no sing-songy _Omi-Omi~!_ at his door earlier.

“Are you even awake?”

Silence.

Sakusa’s eyes drifted to the burgundy and black kumihimo cord tied to the door handle.

They’d been living together for nearly half a year, and he’d never gone in there once. Potential dubious cleanliness aside, it was Atsumu’s personal space and if there was anything Sakusa valued, it was personal space. In return, Atsumu never tried to go into his room.

“Dude. Get up.”

A groan. Sakusa sighed.

“I’m coming in.”

He slipped his hand into his jacket sleeve and tried the handle. Unlocked.

Atsumu’s room was identical to his furniture wise. A pre-provided bed, side table, desk, bookcase, dresser. But the room was more homey, more lived in, more… Atsumu.

Knick knacks and books overflowed off the shelves. His folded laptop sat on his desk plastered in stickers. Snapbacks hung on the corners of his television. Walls almost entirely covered in stuff. Scarves from soccer teams, random Black Jackals memorabilia, posters from movies and bands.

Filling in the blanks on his walls were photos. Official team photos of Inarizaki and the Jackals. Family shots of Atsumu with his parents and siblings. Selfies of him and his friends. An arm slung around Hinata’s waist. Bunny ears thrown up behind Kita’s serene face. Squished in a massive bear hug by Bokuto.

He even noticed one of the two of them, dressed in their high school jerseys, Atsumu’s arm hovering over Sakusa’s shoulder.

Atsumu came in the form of a blanketed lump, pitifully curled up on the bed. No part of him visible except for a single foot sticking out the end of the blanket sushi roll.

Sakusa crossed the small room, sidestepping a pile of balled socks and jeans haphazardly scattered around the hamper.

“For a professional setter, you’d think you’d have better aim.”

The blanketed lump groaned, “Fuck off, Sakusa.”

“What? No ‘Omi-kun’ for me today?”

He curled in on himself more, the blanket stretching against his back. “Please leave.” His voice was soft, muffled by fabric.

“Are you sick?”

“If I say yes, will ya leave?”

Against his better judgment, Sakusa found himself crossing the remaining space between him and the bed. The mattress creaked from the additional weight as he sat on the edge.

“Did you tell Meian-san?”

The blanketed lump was silent.

“I’m not telling him for you, idiot.”

“I really don’ need this outta ya right now. Jus’ go, please.”

Sakusa leaned over to rest a hand on Atsumu’s blanketed shoulder. Fingers applying gentle pressure he hoped could be felt through the thick fabric. “Alright.” He said, trying to modulate his tone of voice into something gentler than its usual deadpan.

The blanketed lump rolled over, revealing Atsumu’s face. His eyes rimmed with bright red and dusty violet. Shiny wet tracks snaked down his cheeks. Blonde hair disheveled into an unrecognizable mess.

Atsumu leaned his head back against the pillow with a sigh. “Yer not gonna leave me alone, are ya?”

“I was…” Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. “But something tells me you don’t actually want to be alone.”

A weak smile spread across Atsumu’s lips as Sakusa tapped at his phone screen. “When didja get so soft, Omi-kun?”

Sakusa paused, stealing a glance at his pitiful face, thumbs still hovering over the keyboard. Atsumu winked, earning himself a swift middle finger to the face.

[18/01/19 - 16:48]

[Sakusa Kiyoomi]: Were not coming 

[Sakusa Kiyoomi]: Somethings wrong with Miya

[Sakusa Kiyoomi]: I want to keep an eye on him

[Meian Shugo]: ?

[Meian Shugo]: ok…

[Meian Shugo is typing…]

He gingerly set his phone on Atsumu’s side table, not wanting to see what sarcastic comment the captain was brewing. He slipped off his slippers and pulled his legs onto the bed, careful not to take up too much space.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Atsumu sighed, his red-rimmed eyes fixed firmly on Sakusa’s face. “No.”

"Are you sure?"

“I just…” Atsumu frowned, his eyes drifting down to his hands, fingers picking at cuticles. “I guess I just get like this sometimes. For no reason.” 

Sakusa nodded. He had his own bad days, when the weight of the world threatened to crush him. Normally, he was usually able to drag himself out of bed, finding comfort in chores and routines. But everyone dealt with the ordeal of existence in their own way.

“When you have days like this…” Sakusa hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. “What helps?”

Atsumu stopped fiddling with his fingers and his eyes flipped back up to Sakusa’s. “I…” He started. Any remaining brick of his confident facade was crumbling, his eyes shiny and wet. “Osamu used to skip school with me ‘n’ lay in my bed all day. Watch movies and shit…”

Atsumu pulled his upper body up to prop it vertically against the wall. “But yer not Osamu. I certainly don’t expect ya to do that. With yer whole touchin’ thing and all.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Way to kick a man while he’s down.”

Sakusa pushed himself closer until their sides were pressed together. He snaked his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders and pulled him close to his chest in a firm embrace.

Atsumu exhaled a soft sound and sniffled. Tears dripped down the front of Sakusa’s jacket. He tentatively shifted his arm before plunging his fingers into soft hair. This was completely unfamiliar territory, Atsumu’s hair or otherwise. His roommate flinched then relaxed, nestling himself deeper against Sakusa. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Time seemed to freeze as Atsumu quietly sobbed, tremors shaking him in Sakusa’s grip. The only evidence of the passage of time was the hazy sunset the color of mango and lychee soft serve settling over Tokyo. Sakusa slowly rubbed his thumb over the soft hair of his undercut.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Sakusa whispered when it was quiet again. Atsumu’s head tilted upwards, eyes meeting his then casting downward. He nodded. “You pick.”

Atsumu wiggled his way out of Sakusa’s grip to lean over and close the blinds. Simultaneously, Sakusa unzipped and peeled off his jacket, a sheen of tears still marking the front. Brown eyes observed him, waiting until the jacket was folded and gently rested on the side table before he responded. “Howl.”

“Very well.”

Atsumu settled back against Sakusa’s chest as the blue Ghibli logo appeared on the screen. Without the jacket between them, he could feel Atsumu’s warmth seeping through his shirt.

As his fingers twined their way back into blonde hair, he wondered what he was doing.

Somehow, Atsumu must’ve been thinking the same thing. “Hey… Omi-kun?”

“Yes?”

“Why’re ya doin’ this?” His head shifted so he was looking up at Sakusa. The eyelids above his red-rimmed eyes drooped lower than usual. “Helpin’ me and all.”

“You’re my teammate.” Sakusa paused, eyes meeting Atsumu’s. “And my roommate.” He sighed. “And believe it or not, you’re my friend.”

Atsumu grinned at that, a faint trace of brightness glittering in his eyes again.

“And well…” Sakusa furrowed his eyebrows, “Sometimes you have to put aside your own discomforts for someone else. Don’t get used to it.”

Atsumu’s head tilted back to face the screen, a huff of a laugh exhaling from his lips. “Thank you.” Sakusa could feel the remaining tension in Atsumu’s upper body release, finally allowing himself to get fully comfortable curled up against Sakusa’s rib cage. One hand grasped his shirt as a handhold.

Sophie had barely ventured out into the Wastes before he felt Atsumu shift. His grip on Sakusa’s shirt loosened, fingers brushing against his stomach as they unclenched. Atsumu’s breathing became even and a soft sound escaped his lips.

He was asleep. Good.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sakusa blinked sleep out of his eyes as the final scene of the movie played. He couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep and made a mental note to actually watch Howl soon.

Atsumu was curled up against his side, arm wrapped firmly around his midsection. His hair had been a mess before, but now it was sticking up even more haphazardly. Sakusa noticed, for the first time, a faint smattering of freckles on Atsumu’s cheekbones.

Atsumu’s eyes slowly opened, his hooded eyelids heavy with sleep making it an especially arduous task. His gaze moved from the screen back to Sakusa.

“Ah.” Atsumu half-smiled, eyes softening. “Omi.”

“Go back to sleep, ‘Tsumu.”

“No…” Atsumu whispered softly, voice tinged with exhaustion. “I jus’ wanna look atcha.” 

He reached out to cup a hand against Sakusa’s jawline.

“Omi… has anyone ever told’ja how beautiful you are?”

A single traitorous brain cell in Sakusa’s head thought the same thing about the half-asleep man in his arms. 

Heat rose to his face, partially from the compliment, partially from his thoughts, and partially from the soft fingers brushing his cheekbones. Atsumu’s gaze drifted downwards, and Sakusa realized he was staring at his lips.

“I wish this wasn’t a dream.” Atsumu hoarsely whispered. He leaned in, lips hovering briefly before meeting Sakusa’s.

His experience was limited to merely reading about moments like this in his fantasy novels, kisses stolen between main characters before going to battle. Fireworks, hearts beating wildly, finding momentary solace in a violent world.

Sakusa’s only thoughts were about Atsumu’s warm and soft mouth brushing gently on his own. About how the feeling was foreign, alien, and unbelievably strange, yet still welcome. About how he maybe, just maybe, wanted to do that again later, when Atsumu was awake.

"It doesn't need to be." Sakusa mirrored Atsumu's gesture, slipping a hand beneath the blonde's jawline. He softly brushed a thumb over Atsumu's bottom lip.

"No…" Atsumu smiled, voice beginning to slur. Eyes blinked slowly, threatening each time to remain shut. "Th' real Omi would never lemme kiss him in a million years." The hand on Sakusa's face dropped onto his chest and Atsumu buried his face in the crook of his arm. "I like you better."

Sakusa carefully reached for the remote to flip the television off, taking care not to disturb the man curled up against him. "Goodnight 'Tsumu."

Atsumu mumbled in response.

Sakusa felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. 

In a few hours, they'd wake up and have to figure this out.

But for now, this was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed~!
> 
> check out my twitter [@andraste_](https://twitter.com/andraste_/status/1257523958489985029) for more #sakuatsuweek content. I have a little bit of somethin for every day


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